


Long Story

by Kalira



Category: Naruto
Genre: Curiosity, Friendship, Kakashi Loves Fucking With People, M/M, Married Couple, Naruto Rare Pair Bingo 2019, POV Multiple, So Does Madara, Teasing, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-03-20 10:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18990688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: The Senju and the Uchiha are finally sitting down together to work out agreements for a peace between them, and Hashirama is delighting in the chance to renew his oldest, most precious friendship. Though he's left with a few questions about Madara's life, particularly when the peace talks begin and Uchiha aren't the only ones at his back.





	Long Story

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Naruto Rare Pair Bingo 2019](http://naruto-rarepair-bingo.tumblr.com/), for the spaces 'time travel' on board A & 'randomizer' on board C.
> 
>  

“I do have to ask. . .” Hashirama began, glancing beyond Madara at the handful of very clearly out of place figures amidst his Clansmen. They were obvious by their hair alone - ranges of silver, white, grey, pale golds and russet browns, most spiky and wild; all standing out among the often sleek inky blacks and deep browns of the Uchiha. Their clothes, too, were quite different - and far more colourful and varied than the Uchiha wore. “When did you ally with the Hatake? And so closely?”

Madara’s lips curled faintly. “It’s . . . a long story.” he said with a shrug, body language still relaxed and easy.

Hashirama made a prompting noise, leaning curiously a little closer to his old friend. Madara huffed and rolled his shoulder as though he could throw Hashirama off so easily as that. He edged closer still, ignoring his brother’s sharp, warning glance - he might be crossing the boundaries of being politic somewhat but this wasn’t _some ally_ , this was _Madara_ , and they were building more than a political alliance together.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Madara demanded, scowling and pulling free of Hashirama’s hold on his arm. It wasn’t quite as fearsome as he could perhaps have been if only Hashirama didn’t remember a shouting, scowling, flailing boy he had made friends with so long ago - had grown to love so long ago.

“I would dearly like to hear a long story from you, my friend.” Hashirama said innocently, smiling broadly as Madara harrumphed, even when he stepped a little further away from Hashirama. “Particularly that one?”

“It’s not important.” Madara said, waving a hand abruptly. “Later.”

“Maa, I do so love a story you know,” a low, almost drawling voice startled Hashirama, and he looked around for it only to freeze as one of the Hatake appeared peeking around Madara’s shoulder, “do you _promise_ to tell it later?”

“Horrible mutt.” Madara grumbled, but he didn’t protest when he sat down and the man immediately followed to settle at his side, leaning up against his arm and shoulder casually. Though he was very clearly a Hatake, with his spiky silver hair and lanky build, he wore a cloth band across one eye that not only precisely matched Madara’s shirt in its shade of blue, but was emblazoned with an uchiwa.

The contact he had so easily settled into was a bit of a personal gesture, too, for a simple ally, no matter how trusted or established as such.

“Indulge me.” the man said lazily, lips tilting visibly beneath the mask covering his face from the bridge of his nose down, his single visible eye half-lidded as he met Madara’s gaze easily.

“ _Spoiled_ mutt.” Madara said instead, but he was smiling faintly and his eyes were warm and fond.

Hashirama gasped and clapped his hands, intrigued. “Did your alliance come about through a marriage treaty?” he asked delightedly. _Like his own_ , he thought, with a fond hum for his wife, who was not actually present today.

Madara and the stranger Hatake both gave him dubious looks - although Madara’s quickly dissolved into a glare as he puffed up with temper, drawing a deep breath.

“No.” the Hatake said just as Madara opened his mouth, before he could actually speak. He slid a hand over Madara’s thigh in a quelling touch, and Hashirama fidgeted, eyeing the long-fingered hand in its fingerless glove. “It is indeed a long story,” he seconded Madara’s comment, eye closing briefly in a little arc, “I am certain Mada will tell you . . . later.”

Hashirama pouted at Madara, who only scowled harder in return, grumbling under his breath.

“And we have other things to discuss, mm?” the Hatake almost wheedled, shifting to set his sharp chin on Madara’s shoulder. “Madara. . .”

Madara huffed, sliding his hand over the one resting on his thigh and clasping it snugly. “Yes, yes. Smug mutt.” he muttered fondly as he rose, drawing his companion along with him. “Hashirama, shall we?”

“Of course, of course!” Hashirama said eagerly. “I’m so excited we are finally here to do this between us!”

Madara waved his free hand, but he wore a faint smile as well.

“Maa, always you’re insulting me. . .” The Hatake somehow contrived to convey a pout with the tiny fraction of his face actually visible.

“Hush you.” Madara said, with a stifled laugh. “You’re _dreadful_. You deserve every bit of it.”

The pout morphed back to the little smile, his eye closing again, and he pressed his masked face to Madara’s cheek briefly before drawing back as they walked away together.

Hashirama stifled a laugh, covering his mouth, but grinned at his old friend. And his . . . whatever the Hatake was, because it was clearly more than _solely_ an ally.

“Anija,” Tobirama said, barely audible, one hand locking in a tight grip around Hashirama’s arm just above the elbow, “for the love of the kami, _control yourself_. I know you call Uchiha Madara your oldest friend, but he is the Head of a Clan we have been at _war_ with for generations. _This is not a game_ , it is a negotiation, and if you want things to go well you need to be serious!” he snapped, his sharp voice still kept low enough his words barely reached Hashirama’s ears.

He pouted at his brother, only to be pinned with a fierce glare, and ducked his head, slinking off in Madara’s wake with his brother at his side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Your best friend,” Kakashi said, stretching languidly once his armour had been casually shed to rest on the floor, “he is,” a delicate pause punctuated with a mischievous sparkle in a storm-coloured eye as his husband rolled his sleek mask down, “curious.”

Madara huffed. Kakashi slunk closer with rolling steps, and he relented. “Hashirama is always curious.” he said with some irritation and . . . perhaps some faint fondness. “He’s a very nosy person.” he added with a snort.

Kakashi laughed softly, his full mouth quirking with his amusement as he gently pushed at Madara. He saw fit to comply with the nudging, sinking down to their shared camp bed. “Do you intend to tell him the truth?” Kakashi asked, settling across Madara’s lap as he stiffened, eyes widening.

“ _Never._ ” Madara hissed, fingers curling even as his hands came to rest on Kakashi’s sides, and Kakashi laughed again, arms twining around his shoulders, one hand burying itself in his hair and ruffling playfully. Madara huffed moodily, unsurprised when it had zero effect on his husband, who continued to play with his hair, smiling.

“Do you,” Kakashi paused and it was not playful this time, “regret that I told _you_?”

Madara stilled, then shifted to meet his husband’s gaze. Kakashi was nervous, a tension-born tremor running through him, but he didn’t dodge Madara’s eyes.

“. . .no, my love.” Madara said gently, rubbing his hands down then back up Kakashi’s thighs, then sliding up to clasp his hips and tug him a little closer, bumping their noses together. “I do not regret _knowing_ you, the truth of you.”

Kakashi smiled shakily at him, one almost alarmingly oversized canine peeking over his lower lip as the expression twisted slightly. Madara kissed him softly, humming a soothing note and sliding one hand up his back to rub comfortingly at the nape of his neck.

Kakashi relaxed into Madara’s kiss, then sighed as he pulled away, body bowing and head coming to rest on Madara’s shoulder. He rubbed Kakashi’s back, supporting his husband’s suddenly lax weight easily and cradling him close, and hid a smile in Kakashi’s wild hair as he made a wolfish crooning sound and snuggled into the embrace.

After a few minutes Madara had to stifle a laugh instead, feeling Kakashi nosing at his neck and scenting him even as he shifted impossibly closer to Madara. He curled his fingers and dragged them down Kakashi’s back with light pressure and hummed smugly when Kakashi whined softly and arched under the touch, lifting his head.

He met Madara’s gaze with a long, slow blink. Madara hummed again, tugging Kakashi back in close and resting their brows together companionably. Kakashi draped his arms around Madara’s shoulders and gave him an attentively curious look which Madara suspected was, at least, only partially feigned.

“We will have to tell Hashirama _something_ ,” Madara pointed out, fingers tightening on Kakashi’s hip when he tensed, “but there is no reason for it to be anything different than everyone else has heard. He may demand,” he rolled his eyes, because Hashirama _would_ , regardless of whether it was his right to do so or not, “more _personal details_ , but they are more likely to be about our courtship,” his cheeks warmed, “than your past.”

Kakashi arched an eyebrow, then grinned.

“ _No._ ” Madara said flatly, immediately. Kakashi’s grin widened, the scar that disappeared up under his eyepatch tugging slightly with the movement of his cheek. “No.” Madara said again, firmly.

“Whatever do you mean, ‘no’?” Kakashi asked in a light tone that did _nothing_ to even _feign_ innocence - not while he was wearing _that_ expression. Madara growled at him and Kakashi giggled. “Maa, maa, as you wish.” he said, flapping one hand dismissively.

Madara’s eyes narrowed, because he _knew_ Kakashi and there was _no way on earth_ it had been that easy. “I _will_ be watching you.” he warned.

Kakashi arched a little and twisted his shoulders, stretching out his lean torso. “You mean you don’t always?” he asked, looking at Madara with a heavy-lidded eye.

Madara opened his mouth, then closed it with a thin whine as Kakashi stretched a little more, simultaneously settling deeper into his lap. Kakashi laughed softly and cuddled against his chest once more. “Yes, damn it, _sly mutt_.” he huffed, smoothing his hands up Kakashi’s back and holding him close, nuzzling his cheek. “Always, my love.”

Kakashi tilted his head for a kiss, and Madara sighed and met his husband’s mouth with a soft brush of lips that stretched out and lingered, deepening with an easy slide. Madara’s hands roamed Kakashi’s slender body, stroking and gently pulling him into Madara.

Kakashi made a soft sound of pleasure, all but going limp in Madara’s arms, draped over him. They parted to breathe, and Madara gently nibbled and sucked at his lower lip. It made him shift and rock in Madara’s lap, twining himself even closer; languid, sweet, clingy, but lacking any real heat. Madara let the kiss ease - he didn’t wish for anything more either, not now - and stroked up and down his husband’s back with a gentle hand.

“Thank you.” Madara said softly, after a time.

Kakashi hummed, nosing his jaw. “For what, darling?” he asked, his gaze warm.

Madara swallowed, rubbing up and down Kakashi’s spine once more. “For. . . For supporting me. For helping . . . _this_ . . . happen. For making me _believe_ it could even before you told me the truth of yourself.” he said, his throat thick with the words and the feeling behind them.

Kakashi’s smile softened. “You already believed it.” he said gently, and kissed Madara again. He wasn’t quite sure he _had_ \- not any more, not by the time he had met Kakashi, bitter and hurt and . . . lost - but he didn’t argue, only hugged his husband closer and this time let his own head rest on Kakashi’s shoulder with a sigh.

Kakashi stroked his shoulders and back, humming, shifting in his lap to settle into a slightly more stable position.

 

**Omake:**

Kakashi came awake to the throaty sound of his mate’s laughter. He rolled over, tilting his head as he pushed up on his elbows, and gave a curious sound.

Madara grinned at him, bright and big and - as ever - just slightly mad. It had long since stopped sending an apprehensive shiver through Kakashi and now only sparked a feeling of warm fondness, especially as smiles this broad were sadly not common from his mate.

“Evidently Hashirama is impatient for his story time.” Madara said, shifting a little closer and sliding a hand over Kakashi’s bare chest, then up to his shoulder to tug him down and sideways.

Kakashi let himself be brought near in a lazy shift, sinking into the firm warmth of Madara’s body with a low, absent hum of appreciation. “Oh?” he questioned, fingertips tracing Madara’s collarbone and down over the sloping muscle of his chest.

“He was creeping about outside, but it seems some of your kinsmen’s wolves . . . found him. He wasn’t precisely quiet.” Madara said with a laugh.

Kakashi hid a smile in Madara’s shoulder. “Creeping around the camp of one’s allies is very poor form.” he said mildly, and grinned when it made Madara laugh again.

“Be sure to tell him that when we meet again on the morrow.” Madara suggested, curling an arm around him. “ _Please._ ”

“If it would amuse you.” Kakashi said playfully, nipping his mate’s shoulder gently. “In any case it’s true. If you’re going to break etiquette so severely, you really ought to be sneakier about it.” he said solemnly.

Madara laughed again, arms closing tighter around Kakashi. “Hashirama never was good at that.” he said wryly, fingers curling around Kakashi’s hip, tugging at him and snuggling closer.

“Terrible ninja.” Kakashi observed with a sigh. _Shinobi no Kami_. It was almost reassuring . . . if it hadn’t also been incredibly exasperating. At least by the time he had met the man, here, in this time, he hadn’t expected any _better_.

Madara kissed him warmly. “Your standards are rather high.” he said against Kakashi’s mouth, stroking his back.

“You met them.” Kakashi teased, dipping his head and returning the affectionate kiss.

Madara had met far more than that, _exceeded_ Kakashi’s expectations of him . . . and fallen short of them. In the best ways. Had been and become more than Kakashi could ever have dreamed when he found himself lost in this time with no way home, and been determined, then, if he was stuck here, to make his village better from its very start.

Kakashi still thought he might be doing so, as he had hoped . . . but not, as he had intended, with a watchful eye and his raiton held in readiness to find Madara’s heart. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought, stomach knotting unpleasantly. He stroked Madara’s face and nuzzled him affectionately, putting his old plans out of his mind and curling into his mate’s embrace with a low hum of pleasure.

He could hear the Hatake outside, human and wolves alike, and he smiled as he closed his eyes, settling against Madara’s shoulder, the familiar sounds of his clan on patrol soothing in a way he never would have known. Not without the accident that had brought him back in time. As he would never have known his mate, had he not fallen here.

Kakashi was more than content with the way his life had gone astray this particular time.

**Author's Note:**

> I never intended to, but the more I look at this the more I am tempted to write that 'long story' of how they came to be together. . .
> 
> Come say hello over on [Dreamwidth](https://kalira.dreamwidth.org)!


End file.
